Olympus Can Wait
by Pulpwrit
Summary: Hercules H/P fic. Yes, another, albeit with liberties taken. Fans of mythological accuracy need not apply. Or followers of Zeus. **Chapter 2 up, with amazing kung-fu action!
1. The Wedding

**_Author's Notes:_**_ Pretty much a sequel to the movie Hercules. It's a Ha/P fic (yes, another). I know there are much-betters out there, but it was just too much fun playing 'spot the myth' and having an enjoyable and silly story to write without worrying about anyone actually caring._

_Yes, a lot of stuff is mixed up, interpreted, or just plain wrong. So was the movie and series. I'm well aware of the gross inaccuracies, so much so I like to call them 'artistic liberties' and take as many of them as possible._

_Comment as much as you like, most of it's written already but nothing's ever concrete._

_All recognizable characters are copyright Disney. All those who are not are mine, although I likely got them from somewhere among these stacks of books. Koura (legit spelling, by the way)  is mine, and any resemblance to her previous incarnations is purely coincidental_

_Okay, that's done. On with the show._

**The Wedding**

Ah, Olympus, home of the gods. The divine domicile, the mount of might, the coronal court of cumulonimbus. And just about the last place in the whole of the universe Koura had ever wanted to see again. 

But the invitation had said mandatory, in big expensive gold embossed letters, so what was an immortal to do? Mandatory meant mandatory on Mount Olympus.

Although, the spring maiden mused, it pretty much meant that everywhere. Except in Asgard, where mandatory meant 'come if you feel like sitting around and boasting about how big your helmet horns are'.

Koura hadn't much liked Asgard. Though the food had been good.

She sighed and urged the big horses onward, the wheels rattling through the wispy clouds that forever surrounded the rocky summit. She'd had to borrow a chariot from her current employer Serqet to be on time for the wedding (and spent a good amount of time talking her into a pair of horses to pull it, rather than a giant scorpion). It was a long drive over the Mediterranean, and she was hardly powerful enough to just make herself a-va-voom there. 

Koura was more than a little confused of course—Zeus had made it pretty clear she wasn't to show her mug on Olympus again, ever. 'Underlined with a thunderbolt' ever. Maybe Hera had sent the invitation. She and Demeter had always been good friends. And there was the possibility, albeit small, that the gods had tempered somewhat during her absence.

Yeah, and Caledonian boars would fly.

The black horses snorted as they spotted the glowing pinnacle and speeded up when they caught the scent of hay and water. Koura reined them in as she crossed over the boundary between earth and heaven. She entered the parking area and looked around. There weren't a whole lot of chariots there yet.

"Good, must be early." Her small voice echoed among the huge cirrus columns and bounced off into space. She slowed the horses down and pulled up next to a bright green chariot decorated with vegetation and a wide, reinforced chariot filled with Speedy Pita wrappers. Demeter and Bacchus, of course. Koura sighed. A whole weekend with the parents. Lovely.

But since when had the gods had to drive their chariots to Olympus? Zeus must have heightened the security for some reason.

"Koura, baby!" cried a familiar voice. She looked up, startled out of her thoughts. She smiled lightly. Bumming around with Hermes for a while might be worth a longer visit. That was, if Zeus didn't toss her out on her head first.

Koura waved as the little blue god came looping down towards her. "Hermes, my _man_. How's it hanging?"

"Long and loose as always, babe." He whistled as he came to float beside her and winked. "You're looking good there, sweetheart. A sight for my sore eyes. Nice wheels you got there."

"Thanks. It's a rental." She patted the chariot. "And a welcome sight you are too, shorty." She let Hermes help her down onto the cloudy floor. "I was afraid Zeus or Ares might be waiting to tell me how much they haven't missed me."

"Ah, don't sweat it. They're both still sleeping off Hercules' bachelor party down below. Should be getting here soon enough."

"Why's Bacchus here then? He's always the last to leave."

"Cause of you, babe." His voice lost a little of it's jocularity. "They've missed you, ya know."

Koura unhitched the horses from the chariot. "I missed them too. But I sent letters every week."

"Hardly a substitute for the real deal." He stayed at shoulder level as she led the beasts to the stables.  "So how's Egypt these days?"

"Hot and dry and seemingly forever in need of a good sweeping," She inwardly thanked him for changing the subject. "I liked Sukhavati better. Wish I could've stayed there."

"That's what you get for unauthorized tree pruning." He eyed her over his glasses. You know, you could always ask Zeu..."

Koura cut him off, having known what was coming. "I'm not going to ask for forgiveness. I'd rather wander the cosmos forever than pander to Zeus's pride." To say nothing of compromising her own. Koura was a weak excuse for a goddess and knew it. Pride was all she had these days. Other than a mop and bucket. 

She settled the horses in adjoining stalls and locked them in.

"I know, babe, I know." Hermes sighed. "But you belong here with us on Olympus, not running around doing scut work for other pantheons. Dig?"

"It's not really my choice and you know that. Now c'mon, flyboy. We'd better go inside." Koura patted a horse and turned to go. "The sooner we get this weekend over with the better."

**

"The sooner we get this over with the better." whimpered Panic.

"Whaddya mean we?" cowered Pain. "It's your fault. You should tell him."

"You're the one who dropped the scroll," squeaked the little blue demon, running in nervous circles. "You made all the ink run."

"And you're the one who fished it out," Pain growled, trying to sort out the soggy mass. "If you'd just let it sink we could just lie about it."

"Lie about what?" said a poisonous voice.

Pain and Panic froze. They turned around just in time to see the fireball.

"Now that _that's_ out of the way," Hades brushed his hands, "Let's see what we have here."

"It's a letter from Olympus," said one pile of ash helpfully.

"Olympus huh? And I was worried they'd forgotten about little ol' me." Hades lit up a finger and began to dry the scroll out.

Pain and Panic started to pull themselves into some semblance of their former selves. "Are you getting in trouble, boss?" asked Panic's mouth.

"Ah, you know how it is. Try to overthrow the king of the gods, usurp his kingdom, imprison him for all eternity. He's probably not feeling big ol' heaps of familial love right now." Hades began to read the blurry scroll. He finished it silently and then tossed it into the Styx in disgust, his flames flaring a little.

"Let's go boys." The lord of the dead growled. "We've got to find me a lawyer."

The imps bounced to their feet. "Yes sir!" Hades strode off towards the well of souls, the imps trailing. Panic leaned over to Pain. "What's a lawyer?"

"Aren't those all those guys we had to muzzle?"

  
**

"So I've been guarding the gates, keeping a watchful eye the last few months, ya know." Hermes snapped his fingers. "Big time soldier stuff. Zeus's orders, triple the security. Athena and Ares patrol the perimeter most days."

"And no one's seen Hades since he ran back off to the Underworld?" Koura was still trying to wrap her brain around the story Hermes had been telling her. No wonder Zeus had tightened security.

"Nope. Zeus sent me down there to give him a summons, but I had to give it to those two little squirts he calls minions."

"I'm surprised Thunderpants is talking to him at all. Zeus's always been more of the 'electrocute something until it begs for mercy and says it's sorry, and then turn them into a rock or cow' type." 

They came to the main hall, but there was no one to be seen except a few snoozing eagles in one corner. A sense of relief flooded her. Some time to relax before Zeus got back. But as she started to walk around the main hall, she started to feel a little homesick. It had been almost a thousand years.

Koura shook it off and sighed. "I'm also amazed he didn't see it coming. Maybe we should appoint a god of common sense, or twenty-twenty vision."

"Huh?" Hermes frowned. 

"What? You can't tell me you're surprised by all this." Koura took off her threadbare green cloak and put it onto a cloud chair that conveniently formed by her side.

"At the Titanic invasion from the bowels of the earth? Yeah, you could say it caught me a little off guard."

"Oh come on. I mean, in retrospect. The guy's been making noises like a volcano for all the centuries I can remember. He's always had it in for Zeus. Course, I never thought he'd be stupid enough to try anything." She stretched her arms over her head, working the kinks out of her back. "Hades was always and jerk and a half, but he wasn't ever a moron."

Hermes nodded. He hadn't gotten to talk about this with any of the other deities—Zeus had strictly forbidden the use of Hades' name on Mount Olympus.

"And the whole Hercules thing, whoo." She puffed her cheeks out a little in amazement. "That's some extensive planning ahead."

"You got that right babe. Wasn't any spur-of-moment-impulse evil overthrow."

"Yeah. He probably had it in his day planner. Seven, check on famine. Eight, have breakfast. Nine, rearrange the order of the cosmos. Ten, burn down the hairdresser's again." She thought, dredging up long forgotten memories. When was the last time she'd seen old Huff an' Puff? Probably the Bacchic festival right before she'd left Olympus for good. Nearly a millennia.

"I'd love to be alone with him. Just me, him and a fire hose." Koura balled her fists. He'd said her dress was all the fashion among the forty years' dead.

"Hey babe, I hear ya. But we gotta keep him in one piece, at least for a little while. We're having his trial right after the kiddo's wedding."

"What? Who's idea was that?" Koura asked, then rolled her eyes. "Never mind, Zeus's. He never could just sit back and enjoy himself when there's someone around who needed smiting." She listened to her voice echo throughout the empty palace. "That'll mean I'll have to stick around for it instead of shopping. Serqet asked me to drop by Column and Barrel tomorrow." They walked through a few more empty rooms. "Hey, I know the gods are busy recuperating from the bachelor's par-tay, but where are all the goddesses?"

"Probably helping Megara get ready for the big event. Aphrodite was helping her with her dress a few hours ago."

"A few hours with Aphrodite?" Koura shuddered. "Poor thing. Where is she?"

"Back in the west palace wing. Hey, you know, you should go meet her. You two would be peachy keen." Hermes grinned.

"Sure, why not? A mortal managed to snag herself the son of Zeus. I can dust off my respect and bring it out for that."

"Coolsville." Hermes saluted and then slowed down a little. "I've gotta be on guard duty when the big boys get back, babe. But don't be a stranger."

"I'll come and find you," Koura gave him a small kiss on the cheek. "Don't fall asleep out there."

Hermes took off through the cirrus rook so that she wouldn't see him blush. "Do I ever?" he called down.

"Do Gorgons have bad hair days?" Koura watched him go. She'd forgotten how much she'd missed him, and some of the others. Now she was beginning to wonder if apologizing to Thunderpants might be...

"No," she said aloud. "Not even if Ragnarok came tomorrow." She'd die before she'd give Zeus the satisfaction of seeing her crawl.

**

"So you see, I got this gig on Olympus and well, hey, not exactly my thing, ya know?" Hades had gotten the best lawyer out of the bunch. He'd had Pain and Panic dredge the well of souls—there wasn't any way he was going to face the other gods without a real bottom feeder on his side. Other than himself, of course. "The problem is, I get up there tomorrow, I shoot my mouth off a little and Mr. Smackdown lays it on me pretty hard, maybe even enough to knock me into the pit of Tartarus. But you, now, you know how these things work." Hades gave his most pleasant smile. The dead soul shivered and felt like it might be sick.

But a lawyer was a lawyer. "What's in it for me?" he asked shrewdly.

"What's in it for..." Hades began to spark. Pain and Panic both cringed behind a rock for fear of fallout. "Why you rotten little...I should throw you right---hey, you're not bad." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "All right, you get me a light sentence, preferably something that doesn't involve an eternity of suffering any more than I do now, and I'll remember the favor when your parole comes up. How's that grab ya?"

The lawyer was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I agree to your terms."

"Hey, great. Wonderful. Shake on it and let's get moving." He grabbed the shade's hand and sealed the deal, then began to drag him towards the palace. "We've got a lot of lies to get straight."

Pain scratched his head as the two disappeared around a corner. "Nobody's parole ever comes up."

"Maybe we missed the memo," said Panic.

**

Meg hated weddings. Her own was no exception.

Not that she wasn't happy. She had never dreamed of being this happy. Tonight she would be wed to her true love, and she knew how few mortals, and even a few gods, ever got the chance to do the same. They and their family would be blessed and watched over by an entire pantheon of gods. 

But eloping to Phrygia seemed like an awfully good idea right about now.

"Dresses, music, dancing, flowers," Meg rested her head in her hands. " I'm seeing caterers in my sleep. Tell me why I agreed to this again?"

"Tradition, dear." replied Demeter, a little sympathy in her voice. "And you can't go against tradition, not when it comes to a demigod's wedding."

"But this thing reads like Herodotus." Meg eyed the guest list. "Long, boring and full of people I don't know."

Demeter sighed. "You should have been at Zeus and Hera's wedding. It took four years just to get the invitations out."

Meg let out an exhausted chuckle. Demeter got up from the bank of clouds where she'd been sitting. "Here, I'll make you a cup of tea with some nice herbs in it. You'll feel born again."

"Thanks, Demeter." Meg began flipping through the scrolls in front of her. She wished she was Wonderboy for a moment; all the big lug had to do was show up on time.

At least Demeter had come to Olympus to help her. As the goddess of the harvest, Demeter's assistance with the celebratory dinner had been a literal godsend. They'd gotten the buffet line worked out in two hours. And the big, loud deity had managed to finally get rid of Aphrodite. As far as Meg was concerned she was sacrificing a sheep to her every week for the rest of her life.

Meg picked up a brush and began to comb out the complex swirls and knots the erstwhile goddess of love had worked into her hair. "I look like one of those awful poodles." She snagged a particularly nasty knot. "I think maybe just a few flowers up there will be fine. A narcissus or two. What do you think?"

"Oh, those are my little Persephone's favorites." Demeter handed her the small cup of liquid she'd pulled out of the air. "I can't wait for you to meet her. Hera was kind enough to invite her for me."

"Persephone?" Meg accepted the cup and took an experimental sip. It tasted like dried grass, but it was oddly refreshing

"My baby girl." Demeter's round face had become even rounder as she smiled. "Such a lovely dear. I put her in charge of flowers when she was just a young thing. She took to it so well." Demeter's smile faded a little. "Of course, she put those terrible thorns on her beautiful roses. I told her that wasn't proper, but she wouldn't listen. Said something about dichotomy and then went off and invented that vile foxglove. Claimed it would come in handy someday."

"She sounds... like an interesting type of gal. Why haven't I met her before?"

"Oh, that's a long story," Demeter waved her off with an air of embarrassment. "Boring too."

"It's not like I've got anything better to do." Meg sighed. "I don't exactly make a good wedding planner, do I?"

"You're doing just fine, love. As well as could be expected of you." Demeter patted Meg's hand gently with her own plump green one. "And soon it won't matter. You'll be one of the family, mortal or immortal."

A voice came from outside in the hallway, calling softly. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

"And there's one now!" Demeter squealed, startling Meg. "Persephone! Come give your mother a hug!"

The pretty young maiden had barely stepped into the room when the arms of her mother engulfed her. Meg watched with interest as the slimmer goddess's eyes bulged and she struggled for air. She had dark inky hair and a good-natured face.

"You know I love you, mother," gasped Koura. "But if you break my ribs I might have to do it from behind a restraining order."

"It's just been so _long_, sweetie." Demeter released her. "Come here and say hello to Megara. She's the one getting married."

"I would hope so. Bacchus would have a fit if he thought you were getting another husband." She looked over at Meg and smiled awkwardly. "Hello, Megara. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Same here." Meg returned the smile, but frowned inwardly. This couldn't be the daughter of Bacchus. She looked like Demeter, large green eyes and small mouth, but her whole bearing was of someone entirely different. She seemed shy and jumpy. And she had feathers in her black hair.

Demeter made a sound like an excited chipmunk. "I'm going to go get your stepdad! Oh, he'll be so happy to see you!" She bounded out of the room as quickly as she was able. That answers that, thought Meg.

"Ah, a mother's love." The young goddess said, sitting down on Demeter's cloudbank. "Does anything warm the heart more?" Koura's face was beautiful, Meg had to admit. But it was drawn, and lacked the confidence and glow of power that the other Olympian goddesses possessed. Though Demeter's departure had seemed to relax her a bit.

"Only their spicy tuna casseroles. Here," Meg picked up her hairbrush and handed it to Koura. "You've got feathers in your hair."

"Yeah, I was talking to Hermes on the way in. Thank you, Megara."

"It's Meg."

"Good, cause I'm Koura. Nice to meetch ya. If you call me Persephone I'm not responsible for my own actions." She handed back the brush, some of the tightness leaving her face.

"Pers...it was kind of clunky anyways."

"That pretty much sums up my feelings, only without the rage and deep-seated bitterness." She flashed Meg a rare genuine smile. "So this little piece of paper arrived that said you're marrying Olympus's golden boy."

"That's the plan." Meg rolled her eyes. "All aboard the love ferry for eternal happiness and bliss."

"Aww, I'm getting warm fuzzies already." Koura made a sappy face and put her hands behind her head. "We'll have to tell Aphrodite there's too much love in the room and she can't come."

"I know, don't remind me. I had to up my salt intake just to balance out the sugar."

"Now now, a wedding is a beautiful event and should be treated with..." Koura stopped, then sighed. "Well, actually I hate them. But I don't get many invites to Mount Olympus. No offense to you, hon."

Meg nodded. "Believe me, if I wasn't one of the leads I'd be out of here on the next chariot."

There was a bit of silence as they waited for Demeter. But finally Meg couldn't stand it any longer. She was just too curious about what she'd heard.

"So, ah, Koura. Bacchus isn't your r..."

"Real father?" Koura looked out the door Demeter had gone through. "Yes, lovely that she let that slip right away. Isn't she a peach?"

"It's a little obvious. You don't look like him at all."

"I used to. Her cooking...let's just say it doesn't exactly rest well on young hips." She held her hands out a foot on either side of her narrow waist.

Meg laughed lightly. "Say no more. I knew Bacchus didn't get that way on just wine."

The goddess chuckled. It was a pleasant but rusty sound. "Cuts and impressive figure, doesn't he?" She put her hands behind her head and looked up at the ceiling of sky. "He pretty much raised me, though. I get my manners and good nature from him." The goddess said it jokingly, but Meg saw a shadow pass across her face. "Anyways, long story short and to answer your awkwardly asked but nonetheless welcome question, my big bad daddy's Ares."

Meg's mouth dropped. "_Ares_? Ares and _Demeter_?"

"Holy Erebus, right? Hey," She shrugged. "Even gods get drunk. I'm not complaining. I owe my existence to a Spartan pony keg and the far left stall of the Aegean stables."

Meg grimaced. "Oh _that's_ a lovely mental image."

"You're telling me. Remind me to tell you about my half-brother Arion sometime."

**

"You invited _who_?" Zeus thundered. 

"Oh, come off it. She's a lovely girl. And I didn't invite her. I think Athena did," replied possibly the only other being in the cosmos who wouldn't be frightened of the gathering clouds around Zeus's head.

"Hera, I won't have...have that illegitimate _viper _sitting in at my son's wedding!" Zeus's head was killing him. The bachelor party had been quite good, and he'd managed to subdue the worst of his hangover. But this bit of news was bringing the shades of the drinks he'd had back to haunt him.

"It's been over nine hundred years, Zeus. And I think, considering recent events, that you'd be glad to have another goddess around." Hera took her ceremonial toga out of the white, wispy wardrobe.

"Don't you remember what she said to me? To you?" That little wretch! And here, right now, in his own palace. 

"Exactly. What she _said_. And looking back, she was..." Hera hesitated on the word "right". Instead she just said finished, "...probably not entirely out of line."

"WHAT? HOW CA...ow," Zeus clutched at his head. "Oh, that's a bad vintage."

"Put your nice toga on, Zeus. The ceremony's in a few hours." Hera sighed. There was no rest for the wives of gods or men.

**

Meg was puzzled. She liked and appreciated Demeter, truly she did, but the harvest goddess wasn't exactly the brightest star in the sky. And Ares, well. She'd met rabid pit bulls with better dispositions. But both were important, well-respected deities with many worshippers.

 The maiden though--she just didn't get a "goddess" vibe from the girl. No aura, no casual dropping of how many worshippers she had, no photo-tablets of her best temples.

This was, as Koura eventually explained when she was asked, was because she didn't have any. 

"Not even strong enough to have an aura. You'd think, hey, mortal and immortal, that's it, only two things you can be. But there's lots of levels of godliness. Zeus, for example, would be at the top of the ladder."

"And you?"

"Me? I'm scared of heights. I fell off the roof of Demeter's temple when I was a kid. Speaking of Demeter, did she help you with the catering? She loves to do that." It didn't escape Meg's notice that the goddess had changed the subject. But she figured she'd asked enough questions for the day. Besides, Koura had some...interesting stories. It had taken her a while to get warmed up, but she spoke quickly and energetically, without her earlier nervousness.

Meg listened with fascination as Koura described some of the places she'd lived and worked. She gestured expansively as she described a stint in someplace called Chicunauhmictlan. "So I say to Mictlantecuhtli, that's _my_ sombrero!"

Meg dissolved into a fit of laughter. "He didn't!"

"He did, I swear. He had a lot of nerve for a rotting skeleton." Koura rested her chin on her hand reflectively. "If I never eat another rattlesnake burger it'll be too soon."

"You know, I always thought the world was flat."

"It is. Unless you know it isn't." Koura tapped the side of her nose. "It's all in knowing the right travel agent."

"I talked Hercules into traveling a little for our honeymoon." Megara pulled a few brochures from underneath the pile of clothing. "I haven't really seen very much of the world. Not enough for my taste, anyways. We're leaving right after the party tonight."

"Oo, gimme." Koura looked at them with interest. "I love travel brochures. Check it out, 'Persia: We Promise We're Peaceful'. Yeah, and I've got the peaceful chariot tracks up my backside to prove it."

"I was thinking maybe Pylos. You ever been?"

"Once when I was kid. The beaches are nice, or at least they were way back then." Koura looked at the tiny sundial on her wrist. "You know, it's getting to be that time."

"What? Oh, Zeus." Meg began to panic, "It's not till four!"

"And it's two now. We must have lost track of..."

Demeter barreled into the room, making the point. "Meg! I'm so sorry! Zeus and the boys had such headaches, and I ended up making tea for all of them, and then they wanted cold presses, and oh! Persephone! You haven't even gotten dressed yet!"

"This is what I'm wearing." Koura looked down at her dark green dress. It had a little thorn-and-rose motif along the bottom. It was the nicest thing she had.

"Nonsense. That style is at least forty years behind. And it's all ragged and worn out." Demeter would have rolled up her sleeves, had she been wearing any. "Meg, get into your dress. We'll do your hair with Persephone's flowers. Then," Demeter eyed her daughter. "We're going to take care of _you_, my ray of sunshine."

**

Well, at least it was over. And it had gone off fairly well, considering all the last minute arrivals. That was a problem with these big gatherings, thought Koura, chewing on a little muttonfurter from the buffet. Everyone tried to one up each other for the biggest, most dramatic entrance. You'd have thought someone would've have put a stop to it years ago after Poseidon's tsunami transport had temporarily turned Olympus into an island. But no. Style over common sense, as always.

And speaking of style...

"You look like a pink nightmare in that dress, babe. Wanna dance?" Hermes floated into Koura's field of vision.

"Leave me alone. I haven't had _nearly_ enough to drink." She knocked back a cup of nectar and swallowed hard. Hermes groaned inwardly. Koura had been skulking by the buffet table most of the night, looking increasingly more miserable.

Hermes flipped himself upside down in an attempt to make her smile. She just glared at him. He took a flap backwards out of reach. "Suit yourself. But it's your favorite song."

Koura listened for a moment. "The Grecian Grind is most definitely not my favorite song."

"C'mon sweetness. I'll help you break the ice."

"You noticed the cold shoulders too? Good, I thought I was being oversensitive when Poseidon asked why anyone hadn't cut out my tongue yet."

"They're just a little high strung, you know, the trial tomorrow an all."

"And I've got to sit in on _that_ too! Mother's insisting." Koura sighed. "Apparently some new hotshot sea god is going to be there and I'm supposed to make eyes at him during the boring parts."

"Hey, look on the bright side. There might not be any boring parts."

"True," Koura's face lost a little of it's gloom. "You know if we're allowed to throw anything at Mr. The Pit Of Eternal Misery Isn't Good Enough For Moi?"

"Zeus'll probably toss a few bolts. I can't see him resisting the impulse."

"I hope so. I can't stand being bored."

"Beautiful, charming conversationalist, and a fan of the fights," Hermes took her arm and began leading her to the dance floor.  "What doesn't she have?"

She dragged her feet. "Oh, I don't know. A job, a home, any sort of respect..."

"You could always apolo..."

"No. Now don't step on my toes." 

Hermes sandals came to about her belt. "No problem, my pink vision of fluffy loveli...ow, ow not the thumb, I need that."

She loosed her grip. "Patronizer."

Across the room Zeus watched Koura and Hermes. "Can you believe it? Prancing around like a satyr, in _my_ house."

"It looks like dancing to me, Dad." Hercules had been shooed away by Meg as his new wife went to gossip with the Graces and one of the Muses. But she'd mentioned Demeter's daughter as someone worth putting down on their dinner party list. Whatever that was. 

He'd been surprised to find out she was an exile when he'd brought her up in front of his father. In fact, his father had much to say on her, which landed him right where he was at the moment. 

"You know, you, eh, haven't really told me what's so bad about that goddess. You've just been looking really scary all night, and she's been looking depressed." Hercules fidgeted.

"One, she's not a real goddess, son. She doesn't have a purpose. Utterly and completely useless. She's just a common spring maiden. Nearly as weak as a mortal, and no better than a nymph as far as I'm concerned. Two," Zeus gritted his teeth. "She questioned my decision on a certain personal matter, and when I tried to be reasonable about it, she insults me, my wife, and the entire Pantheon."

"Wow," Hercules looked twice at the godde...spring maiden. She was taller than Meg, but slight and sort of tired looking. Hardly the type to stand up to the god of gods. Although maybe at one time, she had been. "What'd she say?"

"That I was," Zeus gritted his teeth, "I was a..."

"A thoughtless philanderer...and that Hera was a jealous, vindictive witch." boomed Ares, joining the conversation. "Although the language might have been a bit stronger." A few of the other gods looked their way as his words carried over the din of the central hall. The red god of war continued, heedless. "Then she called me a bloodthirsty fool, and a few choice other things, and Athena a know-it-all, and Poseidon a pickle, and Hades a..."

Hercules interrupted. "A pickle?"

"Must have been some sort of salt water insult. She was running out of steam by then. But she went on, called us 'detached and unfeeling tyrannical twits'. She always did have a flair for the dramatic. Gets it from her mother, I suppose."

"Jeez. What started it all?"

"You know," Ares frowned. "I never was really clear on the beef with you, Zeus. I _know_ why she hates me, but she never paid you much attention before then. Never really paid attention to any of us." He put his arm around Hercules' shoulders. "Put her out of your mind, boy. She's a silly, brainless girl."

Hercules slid away from the war god, and turned to his father again. "Dad, what did you do?"

"Oh. Nothing really..." Zeus abruptly seemed to run out steam himself.

"Dad?" Hercules suddenly got an inkling. "This wouldn't be one of those Prometheus sort of decisions, would it?"

"What? No! Of course not. She disrespected her elders in an outright display of rebellion. Wanting me to undo what I'd already done. Nonsense! I had to nip it in the bud, my boy. You can't let people get away with things. You've seen yourself what that can lead to." He brought his fist down on his palm, nearly spilling his drink. "Trouble, and more trouble. Before you know it you're up to your neck in hot lava with hail in your eyes." Zeus took a gulp of nectar and wiped his brow. "I exiled her, right there and then. Wandering the earth for a few thousand years should break that nerve of hers." He sniggered a little. "I heard she's been washing dishes and sweeping floors to stay in ambrosia and keep."

"All right," Hercules refused to be swayed by his fathers' digression. He'd heard it before. "Just tell me one thing. How'd it start?"

"That little...nymph wannabe..." Zeus growled, "Was friends with this silly mortal princess, name of...oh what was it? Io something."

"Io?" Hercules frowned. "Wasn't that the princess that was turned into a cow?"

"You've heard the story?" The thunder god was startled.

"Yeah, I heard it at ProAc. Some god wouldn't leave her alone, and then transformed her to hide her from his jealous..." Hercules' jaw dropped as the light bulb came on. "It was _you_, wasn't it?"

"Now son, everyone's allowed their youthful indiscretions." Zeus had gone from looking surprised to downright nervous.

"Io wandered the earth for years being tortured! She went mad!" Hercules couldn't believe his ears.

"I turned her back, my boy. Eventually. No harm done. And besides," Zeus drew himself up. "The principle of the thing remains the same. The brat insulted her superiors, all for the friendship of a mortal, and had to be reprimanded. Certain gods have done worse," he added darkly. "But she's a nothing, a nobody. Never was, never will be."

"Although," Ares interrupted. "Athena _is_ a know it all."

"I'm going to go talk to her," Hercules shook his head. "Dad, I really wonder sometimes."

"Hercules, don't..." Zeus watched his boy go, then groaned. "That didn't exactly turn out as I wanted it to."

"Kids never do," Ares slapped him on the back. "Here, have one of these little muttonfurters. They're almost better than beheading your enemy."

Zeus grunted. That spoiled girl, turning his own son on him_. As soon as the weekend's over it's back to being a maid for whatever pantheon feels sorry for you this month_, thought Zeus. He'd kick her out this instant if Hera hadn't been so doggedly concerned for the worthless girl.

He'd been surprised at how worn out she'd looked though. The other pantheons couldn't be that rough. Zeus felt the tiniest twinge of guilt; fortunately, he washed it down with another swallow of nectar. Ah, the drink of the gods.

 Back on the dance floor, Hermes swung Koura around like a sling, almost hitting Hephaestus and Aphrodite.  
            "Watch it with the Delian dips," Koura pulled the little god back. "You're going to hurt someone. Namely myself." She could feel herself starting to get sick. Those little furters weren't sitting well in her stomach at all.

"Hey babe, I'm smooth as silk."

"Excuse me," said a voice.

Koura spotted Hercules over the blue gods' shoulder. The young groom grinned awkwardly. "Mind if I cut in?"

"Sure, no problem." She pushed Hermes at him. "Have fun, you two." Koura turned away and began to walk towards the hallway that led to the private rooms. Oh, stomach trouble. Could you _get_ food poisoning from ambrosia?

"No, wait!" A hand caught her arm. 

Koura turned around, temper gone and ready to bite. "Look, I've had a long night, a terrible time, and I think I'm seeing a hangover in my future. So if you _don't_ mind..."

"I wanted to apologize," Hercules said quickly. Koura stopped and looked at him, blinking. Then she laughed.

"Excuse me? Did I just here the word 'apologize' from the son of Zeus?"

"Son of Zeus. Not Zeus." Hercules let go of her arm. "My father can be stubborn...to, uh, say the least." He put one hand behind his head and looked downwards, his words coming so fast it was like one sentence. "But I wanted to let you know you shouldn't have been punished for what you said, no matter who you are, and you shouldn't be ashamed or made unhappy for doing what you thought was right for your friend, and I'll talk to my dad for you I'm sure he can give forgive and forget so you can stay instead of leaving." Hercules inhaled. He really needed to start putting periods in his dramatic speeches.

Koura paused, then let down her guard a little. No one had had the guts to speak against Zeus directly to her, not even Hermes. Herc was a sap, to be sure, but the attempt made her feel better. Not much, but a little. "Thank you. No one's ever told me that. It's nice to hear." Hercules grinned, but his smiled faded as Koura continued.

"But like you said. You're not Zeus. You're not responsible or accountable for his actions. I appreciate you talking to me, I really do." Koura put a hand to her head, massaging at her burgeoning headache. "But he did what he did, and continues to, and there's nothing you can do about it. You shouldn't try to clean up your dad's messes. Believe me," she laughed bitterly. "It'll drive you nuts. I know."

"Still, maybe I can..." Hercules began.

"Just say hi to Meg for me." Koura didn't let him finish. "She's a great gal and I wish you the best. Now I'm off to sleep so I'm actually conscious for tomorrow, although it would be nicer not to be. You two have the best honeymoon under the aether, okay?"

"Okay." Hercules watched the goddess go. He felt helpless. Hercules hated feeling helpless. 

He'd have to talk to Mom.


	2. The Trial

**Author's Notes:** Thank you for the kind words (and set to music too!). Anyways, if you recognize a myth, go ahead mention it in the review section-making a glossary is time consuming and I think having one would be neat for those who aren't familiar with a lot of them. Of course, it's all you, babe. :) And as always, advice, suggestions, and criticism are welcome and encouraging.

**The Trial**

Koura was dreaming she was back in Chicunauhmictlan, in the house with no windows, washing plates for food and a place to sleep.

"Make sure to get the blood spots off," Miclancihuatl had watched her work carefully. "You know how Mictlantecuhtli hates blood in his food."

"He hates it," mumbled Koura.

"Hates what?" Miclancihuatl tapped her on the head.

"What?" Koura blinked. The house with no windows blurred and faded, spinning away, and then she saw the vaulted ceiling of an Olympian room above her. The night stars were still visible, although she could see Eos slowly beginning to wake in the east.

"You were talking in your sleep," Bacchus looked down at her fondly. "I didn't know you still did that." Koura yawned and levered herself up out of bed.

"Hi, weekday-dad. What time is it?"

"An hour or two before things heat up," Bacchus chuckled.

"Oh _Bach_, for shame." Koura winced. "Not so early in the morning, okay?" She kicked the blankets off and stood up, swaying. "No puns before breakfast."

"Speakin' of which," Bacchus pulled out the plate he'd been hiding behind his ample back. Which was good, because it was an ample plate.

"I can't eat all that." Koura stared at the mounds of fried ambrosia and diced fruit and nectar pudding.

"Of course you can," Bacchus set it down on the room's small table. "You're _my_ daughter."

Koura couldn't help herself, despite the lingering traces of the dream. She laughed weakly, and then leaned into her stepfather's embrace. "I am, aren't I?"

"Yes," said Bacchus. His voice grew serious. "And no matter what happens, no matter what Zeus says before today ends," He patted her head. "Your mother and I will do our best to change his mind. Okay? Stop looking so down in the mouth."

"You're such a bad liar," Koura mumbled into his shoulder. "Zeus won't listen to anyone. Although," She pulled away, feeling childish. "I can see Demeter nailing my feet to the floor in protest."

"If she had her way you'd be conjoined twins," Bacchus held her at arms' length and looked her in the eye. "But she has missed you more than you can possibly imagine. I have too."

"I know," Koura shifted uncomfortably. "But it's not really my decision. As soon as today is over I've got to leave. The invitation was only for the weekend. And my boss needs her chariot back."

"We'll see. You never know what a single day might bring."

She had to agree with him there. "That's certainly one thing I've learned over the years."

"See? I'm not wrong about _everything_. Now eat up, clean up and dress up. Luckily we'll resolve this whole Titan hooha quick. From your letters, I think you have some stories to tell." He chuckled, a deep rumble. "And then we'll catch up on a eons' worth of celebrations you've missed."

***

***

The Horae waited out at the gates of Olympus in the early light before dawn. The sun shot it's brilliant rays across the sky, lighting up the unearthly palace in lavender shades of gold.

"You think he'll show?" asked Dike.

Eunomia peered at the horizon from where she sat on the palace steps. She could just see the little blue dot that was Hermes, keeping watch at the very edge of Olympus's sphere. "If he does, we'll know soon enough."

Eirene paced back and forth silently. They were guards, not jailers. None of them had ever been asked to do something like this. "Has Sister come yet?"

"Yes," said Eunomia, checking for the hundredth time the chains Hephaestus had given her. "I met her at the gates this morning." She fiddled with the steely golden links

"Athena wasn't too happy. I think she was hoping to make the decree."

"She'd have had to fight Zeus for it. That's why Astraea came all this way. We actually had to go up into the Firmament to get an impartial judge. One that outranked Zeus, anyways. It seems Hades' reputation precedes him."

            "Speaking of which," said Dike, suddenly bristling.

            A black spot had appeared on the horizon. Hermes flipped and signaled back to the Horae.

            "Slap me silly and call me Sisyphus," Eunomia stood and stretched. "Looks like we won't have to have Nemesis hunt him down."

            "More work for us. Positions, sisters." Dike gripped her spear and watched the black chariot approach. Hermes, who had by now abandoned his post, arrived far ahead of Hades.

            "He's got some ex-mortal in the wheelbarrow with him," Hermes scratched his head. "Doesn't look a dangerous cat, though."

            "Hmph. We'll chain them both if necessary." Eirene picked up one end of the chain while her sister held onto the other. 

            "I'll go tell the dirty dozen that he showed up," Hermes tipped his hat. "Good luck, babes."

The Horae were silent as the black chariot rolled to a stop in front of them. Hades let go of the reins and the griffin pulling it dissolved into smoke.

"Hellloo ladies," Hades grinned at the three sisters. "You're looking particularly lovely on this fine morning."

"Can it, Hades." Eirene stepped up with her chain. "Hands out in front."

He laughed, raising his hands defensively. "Hey now, don't you think you're being a little..." 

Eunomia looped the chain around his hands as Eirene flipped it up around his neck, and they both pulled it tight. "Drastic? Eirene? What do you think?"

"I don't know. Dike? Your feelings on the matter?"

Dike brandished her weapon. "I think you're lucky I don't put your eyes out, traitor."

"Whoa, okay. Have it your way." Hades' voice had dropped to a growl. "Just watch this thing. I bruise easy, you know."

Eunomia glanced at the confused shade in the chariot. "What about the mortal?"

"I'm entitled to representation," protested Hades. "Astraea's rules."

Dike snorted, but stepped aside as the shade stepped onto the cloudbank.

"This is Olympus?" The shade looked around. "It's beautiful."

"Snap out of it starry-eyes," said the chain-bound god. "Remember you've got a job to do."

"Hop to, Lord Hades." Dike poked him in the back. "They're waiting."

"Hey, I'm going? See my steps? Stop with the sharp thing already. Sheesh, you'd think I was a criminal or something."

**

The minor gods had assembled in the center hall, which had been resculpted into the general form of an amphitheater. Now all they had to do was wait. Which was more difficult for some of them than others.

"And the next thing I knew I had this! I guess that'll teach me to eat grass," Glaucus pointed to his fishes' tail. "Crazy, huh?"

"Completely insane," replied Koura. She wondered what was worse; the reek of seaweed or...

"So have I told you about Scylla?" Glaucus asked. Koura winced. Or that. Demeter must have been getting rusty with her matchmaking.

"Yeah, you did. " She gave up trying to avoid talking to him; besides, he was sort of interesting. If a bit strange in his tastes. "So the whole fanged drooling cannibal thing doesn't bother you?"

"Nah, I like my women wild. Besides," The sea god shrugged. "It's love. Love makes you do crazy things."

"Literally," Koura craned her neck around the hall. Luckily they'd gotten a seat right up front. "Hey, who's the judge?"

"I think she's Astraea. Big justice goddess out and up in the Firmament. Hera had to really beseech her to get her to preside."

"Wow, she's impressive." The Titaness wore a dark blue robe studded with jewels, made to look like the night sky. She was sitting bolt upright in the judge's seat, a great podium at the center back of the stage. Her dark, tightly pulled hair was streaked with swirls of gray. She seemed to be quietly scanning the audience.

Glaucus flopped in his seat, trying to get more comfortable. "She's a Titan. She's supposed to be."

"Haven't seen one in a while." Koura fiddled with the hem of her robe, picking at the rough stitches. "When does this thing start, anyhow? I'm getting cramped." 

Indeed, the main hall was full to bursting with minor gods, demigods and others. Even Underworld creatures were scattered among the heavenly and mortal monsters. There were many more present for Hades' trial than there had been for Hercules' wedding. The only ones missing were the twelve Olympians, who had a private box to the left of the amphitheater.

"Should be anytime now," Glaucus brushed a dirty feather off his scales. "I wish the harpies would settle down."

"They smell a fight, I think." Koura settled back in her seat. Could be a good show. Her hangover was pretty much gone, and the strangeness of being back home (if you could call it that) had faded. She was feeling more like her regular self.

A rumble of thunder and clash of shields announced the Olympians' entrance. Zeus and Hera entered, followed by Apollo, Artemis, Hermes, Ares, Poseidon, Athena, Demeter and Bacchus (Koura waved), Aphrodite and finally Hephaestus, limping along at the back. The amphitheater started cheering. Zeus flashed a big smile and waved at the crowd. Hera pinched him and pushed him into his seat.

"Zeus," Glaucus snorted derisively. "He sure loves the spotlight doesn't he?" 

Koura glanced over in surprise, then smirked. "You know, I didn't like you until just this moment."

The sea god looked startled, and then smiled. "You don't beat around the bush. And 'didn't'?"

"Yeah. You just got indirect insult points."

"Best kind, except for direct insult points. Want some popcorn?"

Koura took a piece and cracked it between her teeth, sighing. "And he gives me food. My heart is gone. It's really too bad you're already seeing a monstrous beast."

"That's my little sweetness, tentacles and all." The light in the hall abruptly faded. "Oh, it's starting. Should we boo?"

"You always boo the villain." A chorus of jeers erupted all around them, even from some of the more unpleasant creatures. Hades had appeared through an arch on the right of the stage, led in by the Horae and bound in Hephaestus' chains. A small mortal shade scuttled in behind the three guardian sisters, looking about nervously.

"How you folks doing tonight? Havin' a good time?" Hades smiled coldly and waved as best he could. The catcalls redoubled. "Thanks, thanks. I'm here every Friday! Be sure to visit our lovely gift shop on your way out."

"That's enough, Lord Hades." Astraea looked at the lord of the dead stonily. "This is a trial, not an audition." She shifted her gaze down to the mortal shade. "And are you the representation?"

"Yes ma'm." Squeaked the lawyer, cringing under the Titan gaze.

"Very well. We will hear the charges as they have been presented to me by the Olympian council." She withdrew a scroll from the podium and opened it. It unrolled all the way to the floor and rattled almost to the spectator's seats. There was a murmur among the crowd. Zeus and Athena looked satisfied at the reaction.

"Wow. Someone's been busy," Koura took a bit more of the popcorn.

"You have no idea. This is only the hostile takeover stuff." Glaucus's tail smacked the floor in anger. "He redirected a river a few years back. Completely screwed up the tides for about a month. That was rough."

"Redirected a river? Why?"

"Some sort of property line issue. But I guarantee you, it's not on that scroll because Zeus wasn't on the receiving end."

Astraea was still reading, "...one count of kidnapping, one count of child endangerment..."

"Your honor," the little shade stepped forward, "There's no direct evidence that links my lor... my client...with the events that transpired twenty years ago. No one had placed him at the scene. There are also no witnesses. I move to have these charges stricken from the record, as they have no bearing on the trial being held here today."

"Olympians?" Astraea looked over at the gods, "Have you any witnesses to these events?"

The Olympians began to talk among themselves, and then they began to argue. Ares bellowed loudly. "What do you mean the Fates wouldn't come?!" Koura looked over at Hades, who was watching them with an amused, smug expression.

"Score one on a technicality and a bribe." Koura leaned over to Glaucus. "I wonder how he bought off the Fates."

"Got me. I never met them."

"I am striking these charges," boomed Astraea. "For lack of evidence." The whole room began to boo. Hades just grinned at them, clearly enjoying the upset.

"As for the issue of the attack on Mount Olympus," Astraea ran her finger down the scroll. "I have five counts of hostile prisoner release, over a dozen counts of deity assault and imprisonment, several million drachmas worth of property damage..."

And so on. The little shade lawyer did his best, Koura had to give him that. He managed to get the damages dropped on the basis of cloud furniture, as well as the destruction inflicted upon Gaia designated "outside of divine property lines". There were other things as well, but Koura dozed off when the shade began talking about long-term emotional abuse and temporary insanity.

She was woken up by Glaucus, who elbowed her in the side. "Zeus is about to request the sentence, Koura. And you're drooling on my shoulder."

"I'm up, I'm up. Don't let the bus leave." She rubbed her eyes. Zeus was standing across from Hades and addressing Astraea directly.

"As the chosen representative of the Olympians, I Zeus," Zeus paused for dramatic effect; Hades rolled his eyes. "I, Zeus request, nay! Demand, that my brother be locked up with my father Cronus in the Pit of Tartarus for no less than thousand years."

A low rumble went up from the crowd, and not without a few dissents; Koura shivered and Glaucus sucked air through his teeth, hissing. The Pit with Cronus. Possibly the worst thing you could do to any being. It meant pain, torture, maiming, and listening to Dad's old war stories. And in Hades' case, possibly being swallowed again. Astraea raised an eyebrow. The shade by Hades' side shrugged in a "look at what I had to work with, I did my best," sort of way.  The already grayish Hades lost more of his color. He'd obviously expected leniency, or a last minute save, as in years past. But Zeus was having none of it this time around.

"His repeated actions against his fellow gods are inexcusable. His reordering of the cosmos could have very well destroyed the essential fabric of the universe." Zeus was on a roll, having practiced this speech. Big words and all. "Nowhere, in all the history of the world, has such a heinous crime been committed, and for it's sheer presumption and..."

"Well that's not true," Koura whispered to Glaucus. "It happens all the time." 

A gorgon sitting close behind Koura snorted. "It does?"

"Yep," said Koura, still keeping her voice low. "Actually, I've seen worse."

"Did you hear that?" The gorgon turned to her sister. "The little shabby one says this kind of thing happens all the time."

"Really?" The other gorgon looked at her. 

"Excuse me, shabby?" Koura glared at them, the blinked and looked away. Immortal or not a gorgon's gaze could still give you nightmares. "Uh...yes. I mean, not around here, not exactly, it's different. But in Egypt something like it happened, and once in Asgard, and a whole bunch of times in India, course there were monkeys involved so it was much more interesting..." Suddenly the row behind her began to talk.

"All the time?"

"Now that I think about it..."

"My cousin in Persia mentioned..."

"Maybe it's not so bad..."

"You know Zeus, he's so dramatic..."

"And such a control freak..."

"Tartarus is awfully harsh..."

Koura scratched her nose. What was the big deal?

Glaucus lowered himself into his seat. "Uh, Koura?" The murmurs spread and rose in volume. Abruptly Zeus stopped talking and squinted at the crowd.

"Oh," said Koura, suddenly realizing. "Oh, oh no."

"What's going on out there?" demanded Astraea, scanning the audience, which was now in the beginnings of an uproar.

One of the harpies began to screech. "Happens all the time!"

"Hide me." moaned Koura.

Glaucus put a hand on her shoulder. "I wish I could. Just stay cool, okay? No one's pointed you out yet."

"The green maiden in the front claims knowledge of similar events!" the north wind Boreas roared in a great cold voice.

The young sea god sank as low as he could and covered his face. "Maybe I should just shut up now."

"What's the deal?" Koura tried to be as small as possible. "So I do. Let's get on with the trial already."

"If what she says is true," boomed Astraea, "Past rulings may shine light on a more _appropriate_ course of action." This last part she directed at Zeus, who was searching the audience for whoever had spoken out against him. So was Hades, entirely confused but suddenly feeling more optimistic. Were his minions up here starting something?

"Bring the maiden forward," Astraea sat forward. "I wish to speak with her."

One of the Horae left Hades' side and began to walk towards Koura's seat, still searching the crowd.

 "She's the one!" screamed a harpy, it's little-used voice screeching. It swooped down from the top of the amphitheater and circled around above Koura's head. "She's what you want!"

"Go. Away." Koura started to feel the anger coming. She took a deep breath. She could handle this.

Then Zeus saw her.

"You!" he thundered, taking a step forward.

"Whoa, hey!" Hades broke in. "Brother, Zeus babe. Calm down. You're acting crazy here. Like a nut or something." He snuck a look at the audience. A lot of them were starting to glance at Zeus sideways. Not exactly plan A, but hey, plan A hadn't exactly panned out. Plan B it was, then. "Come on, big bad. Can't hurt to let a little girl speak."

Koura had been nearly dragged up to the stage by Eunomia. Hades' brain experienced a skip. Who _was_ that? Definitely not the two P's in the neck. No one he recognized from the Underworld, either, or anyone who owed him anything. Not that the lord of the dead could think of anyone who owed him anything.

"Koura!" screeched Demeter, "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

Koura? Who was Kour...Persepha-whatsis? Hades thoughts clicked back into place. Demeter's exiled kid, the one with the temper and a mouth bigger than her brain. Hel had mentioned her once as good at getting rot stains out of tunics.

"Hey kid, long time no tantrum." Hades called across the stage. "Get tired of mopping up after your betters?"

"I'm paid to be pathetic. What's your excuse?" The audience hissed it's approval. Hades twisted his face up in a snarl, but Koura turned away from him as the Olympian box erupted in shouts.

 "Koura, get down off that stage! You'll ruin everything!" Demeter was in hysterics. Even the unflappable Bacchus seemed agitated. The Olympians were all staring at the maiden like an insect. Ares snorted at her. "Get down from there you stupid _girl_."

All right, that was it. No getting out of it now. Koura straightened her back and set her jaw.  She was definitely back to being persona-non-grata again for just being up here; might as well go out with a bang.

"I will _not_," she glared at the Olympians, but mostly at Ares.

"Quite right, she will not." Astraea motioned with her hand. "Come here, little goddess."

Koura had no idea what she was doing, but she walked to stand in front of the Titaness anyways. It took most of her strength to keep her knees from shaking. But they didn't, and she put her arms behind her back and did her best to look calm and collected. It was tough. The judge was studying her carefully, with a great deal of interest.

"Astraea," rumbled Zeus, looking like he was about to let loose with the smiting. "This...maiden...is known far and wide for her lack of respect and vicious tongue."

"I have never heard of her," Astraea replied. "So she can hardly be known far and wide."

"She could be in the employ of _him_," Zeus thundered, "Get her out of here!"  
            "How could I be?" snapped back Koura, a millennia's worth of anger filling her voice. "You kicked me out and told me never to come home, you cloud-brained tyrant!" Zeus's shocked face quickly turned to fury. Demeter howled and hid her face in Bacchus' toga. The crowd erupted into chaos and the amphitheater echoed with the din.

"You poor thing," sympathized Hades, forgoing her cheek and giving her his most caring smile. Which was more like a leer. "He treated you _so_ badly." The crowd began to mutter below the noise it was making.

Astraea banged her hammer against the podium. "I will have ORDER in this court! Zeus, sit down. Hades..." She grit her teeth. "Shut up. Not a word from either of you. And I'll need silence out there." One Titanic warning look and the court went silent.

Koura, feeling the anger abruptly draining away, hid her face in her hands. Why did this keep happening? All she wanted was a nice quiet place to sit somewhere and not be bothered. Preferably without any dirty dishes.

"Koura." said Astraea. "Please, tell us what you said."

"I didn't say _anything_," protested Koura. "I was just talking." She kept an eye on Zeus, who was now seething by Astraea's podium.

"A failing of hers." muttered Ares.

"Ares, one more word and I'll have you removed." Astraea returned to the spring maiden. "Bear with me, girl."

Koura crossed her arms and gave up. "I just said that this kind of thing happened all the time, or similar ones, and I've seen worse. Well, at least one worse."

Astraea frowned. "Define worse."

"I was in Egypt once, a while back, and this big deity named Osiris was cut into a lot of little pieces by his brother, Set. Then when his wife put him back together again, Set did it again. To get his throne, you see. I worked in her temple and I helped her find some of the bits. It was disgusting. He's an immortal, like us, so all the pieces kept screaming. And we never did find his..."

Astraea cut her off. "And what happened to this Set?" 

"Osiris gave him rule over desert, but in exile forever, with some of these elite guards to make sure he stuck to his job and nothing else. I think being cut into pieces falls into the category of 'worse'. It's certainly not any better."

"Interesting." Astraea nodded. "Continue."

"The islands to the east, across the next continent, had a god that tried to overthrow his uncle. He detached his uncle's island from where it was foundered and sank it. The uncle won though, something about a sea serpent."

"And?"

"He sent his brother to live beneath the sea, keeping an eye on him and never letting him set foot on the island again." Koura was on a roll, "And then, you wouldn't believe the infighting in Polynesia. It gets knotty, but..."

And Koura talked, and talked, and then talked some more. She could always tell a good story, ever since her stint as Anansi's cook. She told the judge about the islands, and then about Rama and Ravana of India, Asgard, the rebellions in the deep continent far south of Egypt, and the wide strange lands west of the Isles of the Blessed.

Astraea and the audience seemed fascinated; Zeus couldn't understand it. They were actually _listening_ to this girl? No wonder Hercules had asked him to lift the girl's sentence and allow her to remain on Olympus. She must have tricked the innocent boy somehow, just like she was doing to the judge now.

Hades, for once in his long life, remained silent. He could barely believe his luck; this little piece of fluff was making him look like a common thug. Not exactly classy or his style, he'd admit, but at moment it was exactly what he needed.

"And Quetzalcoatl lost his throne to Tezcatlipoca for a while." Koura finally rolled to a stop. "But I don't know what happened to him. Miclancihuatl wouldn't say."

"I happen to be familiar with that one," Astraea was drumming her fingers on the podium in thought. "And always with that mirror." The judge inclined her head towards Koura. "Thank you dear. You've given me much to think about." She shot a strange look at Hades, then stood up. "Is there anything else that the court needs to hear?"

"Astraea, my lovely judge." Poseidon rose from his seat. "I would like to point out that all the girl has told us is hearsay. Even if all that she tells us is true, these are _other_ gods, other lands. The trial here today involves one of our own, not some primitive, violent divinity across the sea." There were a few assents among the crowd.

"C'mon, a god's a god," broke in Hades, determined not to lose his edge. "Now you're telling me a fish isn't a fish cause it's not from Greece?? Po-po, bro, my man, you can do better than that."

"Didn't you start an earthquake about a year ago?" Koura ignored Hades and her mother, who was making the 'I'm going to cut your head off' gesture with her fingers.

"Uh," Poseidon looked down at her, startled. "Yes, but I'm not sure..."

"It made three cities in the Nile delta fall into the sea. You killed over eight thousand mortals and gave Anubis a real headache. I'm not saying it wasn't a godly thing to do, but you did get involved in another _primitive's_ domain."

"I was pretty busy myself there, Popo. That was a nice one." Hades grinned. Poseidon sat down, looking embarrassed. 

"That's enough. You've made your feelings towards us abundantly clear, girl," rumbled Zeus, cracking his knuckles and glaring at her.

"Well obviously not," Koura put her hands on her hips, using up the last shred of her resentment. "You should know I'm not scared of you, Zeus. The only thing you make me get is a headache, so knock it off with the big brass olives bit."

"Why you little..." Zeus reached out a hand.

"Zeus!" howled Demeter. "Don't you dare!"

"I must agree, Zeus." Athena shook her head. "This girl is not what the bloody trial is about. Calm down."

"Yes, enough." Astraea's eyes flashed in anger. Zeus stopped, and then took a step back. But the look on his face was deadly. The judge watched him for a moment, then down at the girl. "Koura, please take you seat."

"Yes ma'm." She turned and walked towards Glaucus, passing Hades on the way.

"Nice job, kid." Hades muttered as she came near. "Way to play to sympathy card."

"Don't hold your breath, sparky, you're not out of here yet." She made it to her seat and sat down. "But I sure am." _And I'd better haul it too, if I want to beat Big Boy's thunderbolts_, thought Koura. So much for Bacchus' plan.

"You were good up there," said Glaucus. "I'm not sure you were on the right side, but it sounded good."

"I just told her what she asked." Koura rested her head on the back of her seat. "My involvement ends here."

"I will now retire to dwell upon what has been said." Astraea looked around at the audience, Hades, Zeus and the Olympians. "There will be no infighting in my absence." Astraea snapped her fingers, and three harpies descended from the ceiling and alit on the podium. "I will return." She disappeared silently in a swirl of blue.

The entire amphitheater began to talk. Bleats, roars, chatters and shouts filled the hall. Zeus looked at the harpies, then at Koura. He grunted, and then leaned up against a cloud pillar. It wasn't like she'd be able to make it out of Greece before he could get to her. First Hades, then the girl. He was almost looking forward to getting in some target practice. 

Hades studied the crowd. Most of the seemed to be shrugging and shaking their heads. It was hard to tell what was going to happen; Astraea hadn't given any indicators either. But the shade had gotten him out of the minor stuff, and the kid had come out of left field with a nice piece of yakking. Zeus's little speech about Tartarus had really raised his blood pressure. But this might turn out all right after all. Hades snapped out of his thoughts as Demeter broke loose of Bacchus's grip and stormed up to the front row of seats.

"Are you crazy? What did you think you were doing? Whose side are you on and why would you do that I can't think..." And so on and so forth. The girl just sat there and took it. Man. Hades wished he had a pair of earplugs. It was obvious who the kid had gotten her lungs from. If he'd cared a whit he'd have felt sorry for her.

Koura, for her part, was remembering with a great deal of clarity why she'd spent a millennia wandering the earth. It was because Olympus was loud, angry, and hated her. Missed it, she did all the time. It was home. But that didn't mean you belonged there.

"Mother," Koura started.

"...one single day! _One day_ to be quiet to not say anything but could you..."

"Mother."

"...India and Egypt and who knows where else why it matters I _don't_ know why you should even care..."

"MOTHER!"

"What!?"

Koura pointed. "Astraea's back." 

Demeter whirled around. The judge was sitting at the podium once again, regarding Demeter with a stern gaze. Demeter huffed a little, cast a _I'll deal with you later young lady_ look at Koura, then stomped off to the podium box.

"Now that you've all had your say," Astraea took her seat. "I've conferred with those in the Firmament and come to a decision based on this," She waved her hand, "And other evidence which has come to my attention elsewhere." Koura saw that there was a raven sitting on Astraea's shoulder, quietly cleaning his feathers.

_Huginn_? Koura shook her head. Nah, couldn't be.

Astraea laced her fingers together and turned to Hades. "You will return to your domain beneath the earth and continue to carry out the required duties there. We cannot have the dead go undealt with, and of all the individuals qualified for the position, you, amazingly enough, are the least repugnant." Hades grinned. Oh yeah. Everything was coming up asphodel. 

Then judge came to the second part. "But you are not to set foot on Olympus or the realm of the living under any condition. This includes beseechments, festivals, or any other event that might have required your presence. You are _confined_ to the underworld, Lord Hades. And you will be monitored closely to make sure you adhere to the Firmament's decree. Do I make myself clear?"  
            "Astraea," began Zeus, but she put a hand up to stop him. 

"Do you understand, Lord Hades?"

"Every word, Miss A. Can I call you Miss A? Thanks. And I love the outfit, by the way, really suits you. But I have just one little teensy tiny bitty question..."

"I'm getting to that. Since there are times when an Underworld presence is needed among the mortals, such as those of them looking for assistance in desperate matters, or attending to them at the Necromanteion, you will be assigned an Olympian representative. This representative will carry out your duties among the mortals as well as those on Mount Olympus. They will also monitor your actions in the Underworld and deliver a regular report to your associates."

"You're giving me a parole officer?!" Hades flared in indignation.

"Not exactly as _painful_ as what I had in mind," Zeus rubbed his beard. "But not unreasonable." The other Olympians nodded. Hades under lock and key sounded good; there wasn't much he could do confined to the Underworld—especially by order of the Firmament. And they wouldn't have to bother with finding someone new to run the dreary place. Athena stood. "Which one of us here is going to have to take the job?"

Astraea laughed. "Oh, none of you bunch. You all have your own dominions to worry about." The raven ruffled his feathers and began to murmur in Astraea's ear. She nodded. "Quite right. Only one of them that will work." All of the Olympians looked at each other in confusion. 

Glaucus suddenly began to flip his tail in agitation. "Oh. Oh my Zeus."

"What?" Koura was still sulking.

"You wouldn't happen to have a helm of invisibility on you?"

"No. I don't have any fish sticks either. Why?"

"Because I think your involvement in this is just beginning."

"Huh?" Koura looked up.

"Little goddess," Astraea beckoned. "Please come up here."

Bacchus saw what was coming before Demeter did. He therefore made sure his grip on her arm was very, very tight.

"Uh," Koura got up. "Astraea, your honor, I think that maybe..."

"Her?!" The choice hit Hades and he burst into red flame. "That yachneh telling _me_ what to do? Sister, you've got another thing coming if you think..."

"Silence," barked Astraea. "You no longer have your freedom, Lord Hades. Be thankful you haven't had any more taken from you."

"No! You can't!" shouted Demeter. "I won't allow it!"

"And what exactly do you plan to about it, Demeter?" Astraea rested her hand on her chin. "Koura is the only Grecian goddess without a current purpose assigned to her. She will be on Olympus regularly. She will no longer wander the earth. She will not be purposeless any longer, and I'm certain Lord Hades will make sure," The judge looked sternly at the prisoner, "That nothing untoward will happen to her, nor will he interfere with her duties in any way. Or else I and others in the Firmament will be _very_ put out." Hades simply smoldered in reply.

"Well," Demeter hesitated. She didn't want to argue with the Firmament—confrontation was not in her nature. And Koura _would_ be nearby. Better her in a terrible place nearby than an equally terrible place across the oceans. And it wasn't like she was _marrying_ the evil god or anything. "I suppose..."

"Excuse me," Koura's voice sounded tiny in her ears. "Don't I get a say?"

Astraea looked down on her. "Then what say you?"

Koura paused, then snuck a glance at Zeus. He didn't look particularly angry, just grimly thoughtful. The girl thought about Serqet, the goddess with scorpions for hair. If Koura declined, it was back to braiding it every morning, then sweeping the palace, carrying water and cleaning up after Anubis. She'd had enough entrails to last her an immortals' lifetime. And the look on Astraea's face said that the offer of a choice was simply an act of politeness.

"All right." Koura felt tired and beaten. "I'll do it." She'd done worse for less. And at the very least, it would be interesting.

Astraea nodded. "You begin tomorrow. Have Hermes drop you off at the gates."

Hades laughed, bitterly. "Fine, have it your way. I give the kid a week." And if the general nastiness of the Underworld wasn't enough, there was no better sport than passive provocation. He shrugged, and then addressed the Horae. "Ladies? Walk me to my wheels?"

"Get him out of here. Make sure he goes back to the Underworld immediately." Astraea waved. 

The Horae led Hades out. "Hey, chickenwings, can we do something about these chains? They're really cramping the whole fear-inspiring god of darkness thing I'm going for..."

"This is going to be tough _and_ irritating, isn't it?" asked Koura wearily.  
            Astraea favored her with a small smile. "Most likely. But I've been informed you're the only one that'll do."

"By who?"  
            "That's not important. Zeus, Olympians," Astraea stood. "I trust you have no complaints?"

Zeus studied the green-eyed maiden. Hmm. The two beings he could stand the least sent to the Underworld by the highest authority in the universe, one of them having to report to him under penalty. And it'd get Hercules and Hera off his back.

"I'm good," Zeus replied agreeably.

"Very well," Astraea gathered up her robes. "I call this trial to end. Please file out in an orderly fashion." The bird on Astraea's took to the air as the Titaness disappeared. It circled around her head for a moment, then flapped off and began to head north.

"Remind me to send a _lovely_ thank you to Odin." She sighed.

"Dear," Demeter came, dragging Bacchus with her. "I'm so sorry."

"It's all right, mother." Koura patted her mother on the arm. Demeter swept her up in a bear hug and commenced crushing her daughter's ribs.

"It's just I get all nervous thinking about you down there in that dark pit with all those foul creatures." Demeter wiped a bit of moisture from her eye.

Bacchus chuckled deeply. "You'll be fine, sweetness. You've had worse." He punched her playfully in the shoulder. "We'll turn our celebration into a send-off party."

"I've had worse." Koura agreed, struggling to breathe. Worse, but not the same. A permanent position somewhere sounded strange. And it had the added plus of being jailer to a highly combustible divinity. She'd have to fireproof all her socks.

"Well now," Zeus had ambled over. "Looks like you've finally found yourself something useful to do." 

"Yes," Koura said carefully. "I'm sure Astraea knows she's doing." And probably a bit more than that. Koura put her suspicion (and the thought that something else besides the trial had gone on here today) unto a shelf at the back of her mind for later examination.

Zeus grunted. "Have a good time down there."

"I won't be there to have a good time."

"That's enough chatting, Koura. Come along." Demeter said, nervously eyeing Zeus. "We can find you some nice things to make you more comfortable down in that awful hole."

"I need to return that chariot," Koura said, reluctantly letting herself be led by the arm.

"Hey hey," Hermes descended towards them, hovering above her head. "You're an employee of Mount Olympus, Inc. Tell her to come get it."

Koura blinked. Well, maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. "Would you take a letter to her for me?"

"Babe, I was born to make you happy."

Not bad at all.


End file.
